showed him that. he had guessed correctly, and she was able to find
some comfort in his earlier remark that his plans would not be changed
by having Bard with them. The expected confrontation, however, was
delayed by Bard's deep sleep, which did not end until the next morning,
after Silas's departure to the Lucca Merchants' House on
Needlestreet.
Isolde was in the little plot of ground in conference with the gardener
and his lad, discussing the height of a rose arbour along one side.
Trelliswork tunnels, they told her, were high fashion here in Flanders.
Bard's patience with this garden talk was limited and, taking
Isolde by the elbow, he eased her away at the first sign of an
agreement.
She frowned.
"Bard, I've not finished here. You go in; I'll join you in a moment or
two."
But Bard's misgivings had come alive again by daylight and needed
instant clarification. He kept hold of her elbow.
"Come," he said.
"I've not travelled all this way to wait upon the gardener's time.
This way, if you please. " He seated her where Ann-Marie had yesterday
come down off her high horse to feed him pieces of chicken and where
his dishevellment could best be appreciated in the balmy warmth of a
secluded corner. It had worked a treat. But Isolde was no
Ann-Marie.
His tricks were already well known to her, and, now that his brother
had had her at close quarters, it would not be so easy to regain
ground. But how close was close?
For Isolde, his attempts at charm had ceased to have any effect except
irritation, and the inevitable comparisons between this shallow-minded
young rake and his elder brother were present at every word and turn of
head. How could she ever have been attracted to him?
He tried the tender approach, taking one of her hands in both of his.
"Well, cherie7 We can speak freely now we're alone. You've had an
ordeal," he said, softly.
"Can you tell me about it?"
She stifled a sigh, knowing how he watched for every sign.
"There's nothing much to tell," she said.
"Eh?" He breathed a laugh.
"You were together on a boat for days, and now here with him, and
there's nothing to tell? Come on, love. You don't have to hide it
from me. How long was it before he...?"
She removed her hand in some irritation.
"It was not like that. And anyway, you've no right to be asking me
such questions."
"I thought I had," he said.
"Did he make you sleep with him?"
Technically, the answer was yes.
"I slept with Cecily," she said. Ask her. "
"So you're?"
"Bard, your brother has not harmed me in any way. He behaved like a
gentleman." She stopped short of 'the perfect'. "If I appear to be
upset by your appearance here, it's because I was sure you had a hand
in the plan to abduct me and revenge Felicia, and my anger has stayed
with me. I felt betrayed."
Bard leaned towards her and captured her hand once more.
"Sweetheart, I was so relieved to find you safe here. I'd have walked
it to reach you. I couldn't bear to think of you weeping,
deserted..."
She had not wept.
"How did you find out what happened?"
"In York? Well, Silas obviously intended me to know, once I reached
his house. He told me how to get there. It's a huge place on Coney
Street, just by the wharf. But his servants just laughed: thought it
was a huge jest, you know, brothers, and all that. They said he'd been
to York the previous week, then he was off to Flanders."
"What about Scarborough?"
"They didn't mention Scarborough. Perhaps that was a change of
plan."
"So then what?"
"Well, I tied the horses you'd borrowed from Fryde outside the Merchant
Adventurers Hall after curfew, then I stayed overnight at Silas's
house. And the next morning I went down the wharf to ask if Silas was
due;
the dockers at the Queen's Crane said exactly what his servants had
said, that he'd been. They didn't expect to see him for weeks. I was
furious, I can tell you. The bastard! Anyway, I found a cargo ship
that was due to set sail down to Hull and then to Flanders and, as it
happened, we had a fair wind but, oh, Isolde! " He clutched at his
stomach and groaned.
"Never again! Next time I'll learn to walk on water."
"You saw nothing of Master Fryde in York?"
"Not a thing. Did Silas send him a message, do you know?"
"Not that I know of. But he's sent one to my father."
"Eh?" Bard frowned. That was not good news. It placed him in the
direct firing line.
"He's told your father? He wants a ransom? Greedy bastard!"
"No!" Isolde said sharply.
"He's told my father that he'll keep me as long as Felicia's a
prisoner, and let him know that I'm safe. I don't believe he's
interested in a ransom, and anyway the only thing the La Vallons would
be interested in would be the return of your sister, wouldn't it? And
my father's not known for changing his mind. Quite the contrary."
"Not even for his daughter's safety?"
"My safety's not the issue. But I don't know. I think I shall have to
sit it out here in Brugge for a while."
Bard's voice softened.
"Perhaps we could both sit it out here, cherie.
It's as good as York any day. " He leaned towards her, caressing her
cheek with a travelling finger that found a quick route down her neck
and into the edge of her chemise. It was caught and held off, but Bard
was undeterred.
"There's a lot of exploring to be done," he whispered, 'and as long as
he believes we're behaving ourselves, we could stay here in his little
palace while he's out on his business trips. Housekeepers, eh? What
dye think of that?
If he's intent on keeping you here, I could be his assistant gaoler.
I'd make a very sympathetic gaoler, Isolde. " His other hand sneaked
round the back to hold her neck and chin in his direction and, as her
eyes nickered and watched his, he believed he was winning back some of
the ground he had lost.
"So," he teased, 'what was all that I saw when I arrived yesterday, my
lass? Getting ready to seduce him, were you? "
Slowly but forcibly, his hand was prised away from her neck and held by
the wrist.
"No, Bard," Isolde said.
"As a matter of fact, I was thanking your brother for the gift of a dog
lead, nothing more. Does that answer your question?" Her eyes were
wide open now, holding nothing of the languorous invitation he had been
so sure of, and, although she was not even perturbed enough to move out
of his half-embrace, neither was she anywhere near ready to give
anything away.
Bard was not easily deterred, for this was one of the most enjoyable
parts of the hunt: the pursuit of the prey. There were times, though,
when persuasion had to take a more positive line, for if he did not
take control of the situation as a matter of some urgency, it was
obvious tha
t his treacherous brother would. He had al ready seen the
signs. Laughing, he allowed her to keep hold of his wrist, now lying
over her shoulder, as this kept her prisoner, too.
His other hand closed over her breast and so captured her within a
circle from which she could hardly escape without an undignified
struggle.
Undignified or not, Isolde was prepared to indulge herself, if need be,
and although Bard was strong, her attempts to be free of him were meant
to be taken seriously.
"Get off." she snapped, twisting away.
A voice, unmistakably Silas's, came from nowhere.
"She doesn't like it, lad. I tried it myself, but she won't have it at
any price."
Relieved, but very irate, Isolde propelled herself sideways and
somewhat off-balance into Silas's arms. Not prepared to explain, she
would have quickly disengaged herself to head off towards the house,
but he caught her around the waist and held her firmly against him, her
face beneath his chin. Before she could guess his intention, his mouth
was warmly over hers in a kiss of greeting that was clearly meant to
impress Bard as much as her.
She had been starved for days with only the memory of her nights in his
cabin to feed on. Pretence was beyond her, the need for it way out of
range, and the kiss she returned could not have failed in its message
of desperate hunger, a plea to him to relieve her yearning.
Silas was prepared for anger and some resistance, but hardly for
this.
Nevertheless, her response reassured him that the line he was about to
take with Bard was just as acceptable to her, even allowing for her
unpredictability, and his soundless message breathed upon her lips.
"Say nothing', was the only insurance he had time for.
Holding her to his side, Silas regarded his brother's displeasure with
faint surprise.
"I could have told you," he said, 'but you were asleep. I didn't think
to wake you with the information, though I suppose I should have.
You've been here less than twenty-four hours, lad. " he motioned to
Bard to sit again and shared the bench opposite with Isolde 'and
already you've had the kitchen lass, halfway there with one of the
duchess's ladies, and now an attempt upon my woman. I have to hand it
to you, you don't waste time, do you? Even after a voyage in a cog,
you're going a fair way to beating my father's record, I'd say."
By this time Bard's pallor was quickly being replaced by a mottled
flush and an Adam's apple that yo- yoed alarmingly, turning his first
words into a croak.
"How the hell did you know that?"
"What... about the maidT Silas leaned towards him, frowning.
"How do I know what's going on in my own house?" he said,
incredulously.
"Wake up, lad, for pity's sake. How the hell dye think I know? Did
you believe I'd let you have the run of this place whilst my back was
turned? You, of all people?"
"You've ... you've not dismissed her, have you?"
"Of course I've dismissed her. I'll not have your brat carried around
my home for nine months. I hire my servants to work, not to breed,"
Silas said harshly.
"So what dye think those other two were doing,
then? What dye call 'em . Pieter and Mei? " Bard asked,
petulantly.
"Watching to see what you got up to, lad."
"No... they were--' " No, they weren't. How do you think I know about
Paulus Matteus's daughter coming here? " Silas felt Isolde flinch and
signalled to her with a quick press of his fingertips on her waist.
"And who came with her, how long she stayed, where you talked? And did
you really think she'd keep quiet about it, anyway? Did you?"
"She told you? When? I don't believe it."
"Then don't. She told her father. Her father's a friend of mine. Has
been for years. I saw him this morning. The poor lass was so full of
you she couldn't help herself, but you could at least have given her
the facts straight instead of a bowl of codswallop. He'll not let you
marry his daughter, you know, if you can't stick to the truth. He's a
canny merchant, is Paulus. One of the best. And he knows a diamond
from a lump of--' He glanced at Isolde, restraining himself.
"Well, the word cropped up somewhere, and I'm damned sure I didn't
suggest it."
Isolde could not keep quiet any longer.
"What was this bowl of codswallop? Do I not have a right to know,
since it probably concerns me?"
Silas was quick with the denial before Bard could begin to dissemble.
"No, sweetheart. It concerns me. Bard believes--do you not,
brother?--that he can get even with me for stealing you from under his
nose by taking the woman who pretended to him that she and I have an
agreement to marry."
"She said it was so. In two years, she said."
"She would. She takes her rejection hard, but I can't help that. You
have it from me that it is not so, so you're running down the wrong
track, lad. Now, I could have told her father this morning about her
silly claims, but it would have upset him and got her into hot water,
so I didn't. Besides which, he seems to think that the handsome young
brother of his friend Silas Mariner who made such an impression on his
daughter is like a new toy that he can't deny her, and I'm certainly
not going to thwart that, if that's what she's after. It'll be
something of a relief," he muttered, giving Isolde a gentle squeeze.
"And that would be convenient, brother, wouldn't it?" said Bard,
adopting some sarcasm of his own.
"I came here to rescue Isolde, and you pair me off with one of your
rejects. Well, that's-very neat."
"Rescue Isolde from what, exactly?"
"From you."
"And does she look as if she wants to be rescued from me?"
"You abducted her, man! You cannot take a woman like that."
"Her father took our sister; I've taken his daughter. That makes her
mine as long as he has Felicia. Isolde is my woman, like it or not."
Bard glared from one to the other, then accusingly at Isolde, and,
though she knew exactly what was passing through his mind, she also
knew that, in Silas's presence, he dared not speak it.
"Are you warning me off, Silas?"
Silas leaned back, half-dropping his eyelids.
"Well done, lad," he said.
"You're beginning to get the message at last. So, while you're in
respective mode, understand this. If the idea of having a diamond
merchant for a father-in-law appeals to you, you'd best begin to stick
to one woman at a time, because Paulus Matteus is an indulgent but
jealous father. Perhaps now is the time to weigh up the pros and cons
before you get in any deeper. Oh, and by the way, apparently Ann-Marie
believes you've almost seduced her already, but she doesn't take too
happily to rejection. Gets offended rather quickly. You can stay here
for the time being, though." He did not add as long as you behave
yourself, but it was clearly implicit in the offer and Bard was not so
incensed tha
t he felt bound to reject it, or even to ask for
modifications.
It gave Isolde little pleasure to be wrangled over by two brothers, or
even to be claimed by the one she wanted as if she were a piece of
prestigious merchandise. She would prefer to have been wooed. Silas's
use of the term 'lady' and 'woman' appeared to depend on the
circumstances and, whilst the latter had overtones of possession and
was therefore, in a way, exciting, she would have liked him to say that
she was his lady, conveniently forgetting, of course, that she had
recently denied it. Even so, Silas's uncompromising declaration of
ownership removed in one fell swoop any need for her to find an excuse
to stay, though, had she thought about it more rationally, she would
have seen how immaterial were her wishes on that point. In a sense,
that little crisis was over, for now Bard would leave her alone.
Bard was uncertain whether to laugh or to cry. His hastily made plans
had come unstuck before they were dry and the wealthy minx Ann-Marie